Ah yes, how I have missed you all. And the saga continues...
Speaking of, the one-man "Star Wars" show (don't know exact title) will be making its way into the area in a week or so. I've heard it's brilliantly amusing, so amusing in fact that Conan O'Brien proclaimed it "great". If it's good enough for Conan, it's good enough for me.
Here in windy New England, New Englanders continue not to speak to one another. If you want to live in a place where no one will ever approach you, bother you, and will let you die in peace (your body discovered weeks later when the smell bothers your next door neighbor enough to stir them from their woodcarving or Democratic political activities), then come here, my gentle friends. I lived in the Southland once upon a wee time, and sometimes miss the fact that people there ACTUALLY SPEAK TO YOU. I know, it's amazing! Say what you like about the South, but the people are damned nice for the most part. And they know how to have fun.
Anyway, now that I've plugged the Land o'Dixie, I will continue to update you on the Landlady of Mentally Skewed Proportions. We had a blow-out last night, and I am FINALLY going to MOVE from her HELLISH CREEPY HOUSE. From hell, needless to say. The woman is controlling, dominating, critical, paranoid, mean, moody, and that's on a good day. I sincerely hope that the next person who moves into her haunted house (haunted more by past inhabitants, methinks!) is A. Male and B. A masochist. You'd have to be to live with this woman, because she hates women. I figured that one out awhile ago. Whoever knew it would be so complex simply to Rent a Room. But then again, life in the 21st century is anything but easy. Ah, for simpler times, wagon wheels, warm nights spent nodding off in front of fires after a long day of chopping wood out underneath God's Great Blue Sky. I almost said Green -- excuse me, I need to stop popping Acid Tablets! Kerchoo.
Speaking of Kerchoo, I made the mistake of buying Cottage Cheese with Onion and Chives. Not only does it look like something left in the back of the refrigerator too long, it made my stomach curdle. Cottage cheese does have that effect sometime! Ah, to be a rube for the dairy industry!
Kerblam!
That's about it from here. Today is a Sad Day, by which I mean no hunky Scottish man has come to carry me off to his lair, wearing only a kilt, his long, muscular legs on display for my visual pleasure. I have not won the Lottery, Saved the Children, or Even Voted in Recent Elections, and yet they say God loves me. I think She just might! Down with patriarchy, my wild, free kittens!
May you have a blessed day, out underneath them stars.
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